In the Stars
by FlowerPot21
Summary: Because it’s you and her, things just fall right into place. Things make sense to you. You and Calleigh. E/C
1. One

_This is set post-Miami, We Have a Problem, LA, and Getting Axed, pre-ep spoilers for the upcoming Calleigh-centric ep. Calleigh looked a little...spacy (pardon the pun) in MWHP, and that inspired this short little fic. Will be about three to four chapters. Prepare for angst. Enjoy.

* * *

_

In the Stars

**One**

You notice that Calleigh has been distant these last few weeks.

You picked her up from work this evening, and she didn't say much, only a simple greeting and a smile before you headed to her house together. She was quiet during the ride, and once there, she went and changed before she came back and sat on the couch, where she is still sitting, her knees pulled up to her chest, head resting upon her fist. You are sitting on the other side of the couch, alternately watching television and reading the paper, and every once in a while you glance over at her. When she sits like that, you realize just how tiny and petite she is.

For as long as you've known her, she hasn't gone a day without heels. Her heels add five inches to her life, and you know that must boost her self esteem where the job is concerned. The only time she goes without heels is when she is at home and when she goes for a run, but her running schedule has been..._interrupted_ of late. Since getting back together again, your mornings and evenings have been different, especially mornings, since lately it's always a little harder to get up...You smirk a bit at the thought, you think that perhaps you should feel some guilt behind it because she likes to run, it clears her head, not to mention keeps her silky legs firm.

She doesn't ever look too upset about it though, instead, she has used the mornings you are together to sleep in a bit, she lets you slowly draw her out of sleep with caresses, whispers, and kisses, sometimes she straddles you and drops the sheets from around her body and the both of you take a little more time to explore and talk about nothing in particular as you make love slowly. You love it when she smiles and gasps in between talking...you love it when she gives you encouragements and approval with a giggle mixed with a sigh, and then you fall deeper in love with her when she breathes deeper and then tilts her head back with a whimper-moan and then a satisfied sigh.

You've been in love with Calleigh, probably a little longer than you admit you have. You just haven't been able to say it yet, and she hasn't said anything either, but you have a feeling that she does feel the same way. You're not concerned because you know her; you understand that she keeps herself, her heart, closely guarded and it will take more than just kisses and dinners together to get her to open up. You know that she is still having a hard time with trusting you fully, implicitly again. You know you still have some convincing to do, but aside from the trust, you believe that you and she have recaptured everything you had before. The closeness, the intimacy, the romance, and comfort.

That is not to say you haven't rediscovered all of the things about her that drive you crazy.

You don't like it when Calleigh tries to have a conversation with you while she is on the toilet; that is her worst habit, you think, and whenever you walk out of the bathroom and sit on the bed, she laughs and says "It's just potty talk." It irritates you when she takes up the sink and the mirror. Two people. One sink. Huge problems. She will be brushing her teeth while doing her hair, her elbows in the way and her curling iron a danger to both you and her. Another thing that you think you've actually come to tolerate are the days she watches the DVDs of _Petticoat Junction_ one after another. You have figured out that she does this during her..._monthly_, while eating salty fried chicken and Milano cookies. You have never been able to bring yourself to discuss, hear, or think about a woman's..._personal time_ without cringing and feeling your stomach lurch. Growing up with three sisters, you saw the good, the bad, and the ugly. Well, you saw bad, and it was mostly ugly, never good. You don't want to know about it, see it...nothing. You do what you can to make her feel comfortable and then steer clear and let it happen until Calleigh isn't quite so tense, hungry, and moody and then when she cuddles into you again, all's right with the world. The one thing that she does every once in a while that truly disturbs you is when she wakes you up in the middle of the night because she is nipping at your arm, shoulder, or neck in her sleep. You have yet to figure out what that is all about, but you never say anything to her about it.

There are just as many things that you love about her as you don't like about her. Probably more.

You love the way she sounds, her voice so sweet with that natural twang. You love the silkiness and smell of her hair, you love the curves in her body, you love her cooking, love the way she sways her hips to the music that is playing while she's cooking...there are other things that you love about her that are too numerous to recall.

You glance over at Calleigh again, and she is still in the same position, staring blankly at the television.

"Calleigh..."

No answer.

"Cal...?"

Again, no answer.

"_Carina_...?"

She turns and looks at you, her eyes wide and bright...intensely green.

"What?"

"Are you okay?"

She nods, grinning a bit. "Yeah."

"You sure? You kind of blanked out there for a second."

"I'm fine," she insists, smiling at you.

God, you love that smile.

You like spending time with her, though. That is something you'd missed while you were on your sabbatical in Puerto Rico. You had to get out of Miami, just for a little while, leave everything behind and just breathe. It has been years since you've been on a real vacation, only at the time, you remember thinking that the only thing that was missing was Calleigh. While you were there, all you could think about was having her by your side, walking with her, getting her to try Lolita's, that restaurant you ate at practically every night, and to dance with you to the music in the clubs that you would never go in, but hear down the street from the cottage you were in.

You know that, if you were to whisk her away there, that she would love the weather, the music, and the beaches. You can see her now, in that slinky red bikini she never really has occasion to wear, resting on the beach with a cold mojito in her hand, hair blowing in the breeze. How she would love a vacation, you think. You can see her at night in Vicento's Estrella Bar, swaying her hips to the beat of the live band in a flowy, sleeveless, strapless yellow dress, skin slightly sweaty and that excited, gorgeous smile on her face...you can see her in the cottage in bed with you, flushed, giggly, and satisfied after you've made love together again, the alcohol you had a little too much of making the both of you warm and yearning for each other once again even more.

Just that image alone makes you want to pack up a few of her things, and some of your own, take a quick flight to Puerto Rico and make that vision you'd just had a reality.

But there are a lot of things you know she is not ready for yet, a vacation with you being one of them. Again, you know that the trust is still being rebuilt, and that both of you still need to heal from all the time you spent apart. Even now, there have been hiccups in restarting your relationship. Work, stress, time, distance. You work a little further away from her now, the State Attorney's office keeps you on the go all day long, Calleigh, being the perfectionist that she is, wants to get the job done and never gets off on time.

You dropping her off and picking her up at work lately has done a little bit to remedy that.

Small steps is what it is going to take, you know.

But you couldn't resist her the first time you saw her again. From that moment, the both of you knew that you'd end up in bed together. That was inevitable, unavoidable.

You remember holding her close, whispering how sorry you were for everything, caressing over her damp skin. She turned to face you and forgave you all that you confessed with a kiss and it began all over again.

Somehow, from the moment you met Calleigh, you knew that having her in your life would be an incredible journey, and it doubtless has been. She made you turn into a better man, albeit slowly. You changed because you knew what she deserved, saw what she didn't, and you wanted to vanquish the shadows of those other assholes she dated, to make her see that you were the answer, that you were everything she wanted and that she was everything you wanted in life.

You press fast forward through all of the almost unreal shit that went down, to now.

This feels normal to you, just spending a quiet evening with Calleigh watching TV. You never anticipated normal feeling this good.

Being able to see Calleigh openly and kiss her, touch her without the fear of eyes on you made your decision to leave CSI worth it. Since being back with her, you have actually taken her out on dates, you have kissed her at the lab, and, of late, you have been picking her up and dropping her off, giving her a soft kiss before she goes into the lab, and then when you see her after her shift. You don't care now if people know because you two are no longer working together.

You feel as though you've unlocked a new future that would have previously been too complicated to think of if you'd still been at CSI. You have been winning her heart back, you have done little things that have gone a long way in encouraging Calleigh to get her to trust you unquestioningly again.

You love life with her, and you wouldn't be wrong to assume that she loves life with you. Granted, you are pretty sure you do things that bother her, but that is all part of the ride, you suppose. When two people who have been friends for so many years, lovers for so many months, that you know a person and their quirks well enough to not mind them. You find that you love her quirks too because she is worth everything to you. You love her so deeply, and you need her more than you ever thought possible. You _love_ Calleigh.

You scoot closer to her on the couch and you kiss her cheek, making her blush and look at you.

"What was that for?"

You shrug. "You're beautiful."

She smiles bashfully.

Later, when you finally make your way to bed-Calleigh has long gone to bed-you stop and just take her in. She manages to get more beautiful to you every day, and you don't care to know how that's possible. Knowing would ruin everything.

You change into some sleep clothes, then you carefully get into bed, not wanting to wake her. The smell of lavender surrounds you as you spoon her, and she sighs, immediately finding your arm and bringing it over her waist. You kiss her shoulder, inhaling the smell of her fruity soap, her tangerine shampoo, and the lavender lotion she puts on before going to sleep. There is nothing like being wrapped up and surrounded by her before you yourself go to sleep.

_I love you_, is what you think, but don't dare say out loud.

Not just yet.

**TBC**


	2. Two

In the Stars

**Two**

LA is a nice city.

Full of more blondes than you've ever seen in your life, and all you can think, as you and Horatio both buckle in, your flight preparing to land at Miami International, that out of the millions of blondes in the world, you will always be able to see Calleigh. Not because she is your girlfriend and you are a bit biased, but because Calleigh is just..._Calleigh_. She is beautiful, amazing, intelligent, and so sweet. So, so sweet. She is sexy because not only can she wield a gun, she can take it apart and put it back together while telling you about type, composition, popularity, grade, and how it shoots in under a minute.

Working with your brother-in-law again was good for you. Almost made you miss the job.

Horatio will always be family to you.

He keeps the memory of Marisol alive for you because whenever you do picture her, you picture her happy with Horatio, you remember how beautiful she'd been the day she married him and how you almost let your stubbornness and disbelief of the quick nuptials keep you from enjoying that day with your sister.

Killing Riaz had done nothing to ease the pain of losing Marisol, to assuage your guilt over her death. You should have seen it coming, you should have protected her more. But then again, Marisol had been stubborn, refusing to hide from anyone or anything. You remember how much she wanted a life, wanted to _live_ what six months to a year she had left. She'd been through with fighting the cancer, opting to spend her time traveling, meeting new people, and spending time with her family instead of spending all of her time in the hospital sicker with the chemo than without.

You two almost went to jail for each other, that's how close you had been.

You visit her grave as often as you can, talk to her, tell her about Calleigh.

You wish that she'd had more than just conversations in passing with Calleigh. You honestly believe that she and Marisol would have been the best of friends, would have gotten along so well.

Your mother loves Calleigh to death, so do your other two sisters, they are always asking about her whenever you come over.

Calleigh has touched more lives than just yours.

After the plane lands, and you and Horatio get off, you bid him goodnight, heading off to you car, as he goes to Rebecca Nevins's car in the pick-up area.

You wonder for a moment if Horatio will ever let himself move on from Marisol.

You know that he briefly dated Rebecca and subsequently broke up with her because of differences of opinion over a case. That'd been before Marisol came into his life.

A part of you wishes that Horatio would move on, knowing that's what Marisol would want.

You drive home-to your place, that is-and you take the elevator up to your floor. It is hard to believe that this is your third place in three years. You are pretty confident now that you will not have to move again. You are surprised that you were even able to buy this condo; your credit is in the toilet, but you suppose that the number on your check from the DA's office had been enough to convince the realtor that you would be living in this place for a while coming.

You consider Calleigh's house home too.

You alternate, which is becoming rather tiresome, though if push comes to shove, you will be the one moving in with her because Calleigh will not let go of her house. The house in Bal Harbor had been a gift from her father when she first moved to Miami. Three bedrooms, two and a half baths, great kitchen and amenities...in _Bal Harbor_. Too good to let go, and too sentimental. Her father spoiled her with that house.

You walk into your apartment, and you see Calleigh sitting at the table in the dining room, clad in a tank top and yoga pants, pushing around a frozen dinner.

She looks up at you, and she smiles slightly.

"Hey."

"Hey sweetheart."

She looks back down at her half-eaten dinner, and you wonder what is wrong.

You go over and kiss her forehead before you sit down at the table with her.

"What's the matter?"

She gently nibbles at her bottom lip, looking up at you, and you see her eyes glisten with tears.

You are concerned now, your heart thumping loudly.

"Calleigh, what is it?"

She lets out a shuddering sigh, and you grow more nervous the longer she struggles not to cry.

"I-I have to show you something," she says finally, and you only nod.

"Okay..."

She takes your hand and she leads you to your bedroom.

She drops your hand then she goes into the bathroom.

"Calleigh..."

She comes out slowly, hands behind her back.

"Eric..."

_What_? You ask yourself nervously. _Just tell me._

You remember now why you've never been one for surprises.

She holds up her hand, and your eyes focus on the slim, white object in her hand.

_Oh God._

She sighs, a slight smile on her face.

"I'm pregnant."

You feel your heart race, a lump forming in your throat, your mouth going dry as you sit down onto your unmade bed, feeling dizzy. She comes over to you, sitting next to you, the pregnancy test still in her hand and you look at her.

"You're pregnant?"

She nods, a tear escaping.

You forget your own shock and worry about hers as you reach a hand up and wipe her tear.

Well, you finally did it. You went and got a girl pregnant, not to mention out of wedlock, precisely the thing your mother has cautioned you about since you were sixteen. Having sex was one thing, but Chlorinda Delko wasn't about to become a grandmother, not at the age she was.

Now that you are a grown man, you think your mother is less inclined to smack you upside your head about putting the cart before the horse-it's a new generation, more and more babies are coming before marriage. You're not saying it's the right way, but that's the way things are for people. That's the way things will be for you and Calleigh.

"Are you sure?"

Not that you are hoping it is a false positive.

You want to have a baby with Calleigh.

She sniffles and takes you into the bathroom and shows you the counter, where five other positive pregnancy tests lie. OB, First Response, Sure Woman, Be-Right, and Ready Blue, along with just the plain old PREGNANCY TEST that she has in her hand.

"Why so many?" You ask.

She pushes her hair behind her ears.

"Trust, but verify."

You chuckle then, taking her hand and leading her back to the bed.

You kiss her softly, gently rubbing a hand over her abdomen.

"How far along, do you think?"

"Seven weeks."

You nod. Seven weeks ago would be that morning you two were interrupted by the DA's office, so the night before had been the culprit.

"What do you think?"

You are happy, scared, nervous, and excited all at once. You love this woman, thus causing you to love anything that comes along with her. A baby? Of course, because you love her, you want a life and a family with her. How long have you been imagining her pregnant with your child? What a child, a girl in particular, would look like? A mix of the both of you, you believe.

You think that your question of what a baby made of you and her will look like will finally be answered. You think that you can't wait to see her belly stretch and grow as their baby grows, you think that you can't wait to see her with a fuller figure and fuller breasts engorged with milk for your baby...you think that she will be gorgeous.

She looks at you expectantly.

You gently comb your fingers through her hair, grinning.

"I think it's good."

She smiles. "Really? You're not upset?"

"No...that explains why you've been...off, lately."

She smiles, nodding.

"I know. I've been feeling queasy in the mornings, and I can't focus as well as I'd like to at work. I...I cried at a cell phone commercial."

You laugh, and she blushes a bit, and you caress her cheek.

"That's normal, _carina_."

She nods. "This is good for us, right?"

"Yeah. This is really good. You're going to be so beautiful, Calleigh. And our baby is going to be beautiful."

Again, she nods, still looking unsure.

"What are we going to do now?"

"_You _are going to rest, eat, and-"

"Get fat and ugly..."

"Not ugly."

She rolls her eyes, smiling.

"So you like this? You like me having a baby?"

You smile. "I love this."

"We're going to be okay, right? We're going to do this together?"

You caress her cheek. "Yeah."

"You and me?"

"You and me."

Because it's you and her, things just fall right into place. Things make sense to you. You and Calleigh. Everything is perfect, you think. _Absolutely perfect_.


	3. Three

In the Stars

**Three**

It is the middle of the night, and you are tired, agitated.

Calleigh has been tossing and turning uncomfortably in bed next to you, whimpering while elbowing you, and you have scolded her more than once, telling her to settle down, asking her what was wrong. She gave you a mumbled reply of "nothing" before continuing to fidget and turn her head from one side to the other. The last few weeks, she has been restless, stubbornly fighting insomnia and morning sickness. Needless to say, she has not been in a very good mood, something which you can understand; as many joys that pregnancy brings a woman, it also brings as many discomforts. You've made sure to read up on them, to know ahead of time, but there isn't much you can do about the insomnia, except maybe put up with it until she tires herself out in the wee hours of the morning finally.

The morning queasiness is much more manageable.

Instead of two cups of coffee, there is one cup of coffee and one cup of soothing tea; coffee for your sleep-deprived nerves, and tea for her churning stomach. The vomiting came a few days after the news, and Calleigh lamented to you that now that you know, the baby wants to make you both miserable for a bit. You laughed then, assuring her that you will find any remedies available to help her get through the morning sickness. Tea, toast, gingersnaps...anything to help her keep food down. Still, she can't help it, you know. If she has to throw up, she has to throw up, it is now a fact of life, unpleasant as it is. The first morning she became ill, you smelled breakfast burning and wondered what was the matter because, well, Calleigh being the excellent cook that she is, she's _never_ burned anything, especially not breakfast. He'd gotten up and gone into the kitchen, only to find her throwing up into the sink, sickened by the smell of the very meal she was trying to cook.

You helped her then, helped her get out of the house because the smell was overwhelming her and making her sicker, and then you settled for burnt toast after cleaning up everything else. You found some air freshener, sprayed the kitchen and the house and made it habitable for her again.

It has been interesting for you so far, yet you are still excited. You know that these symptoms will pass, and that Calleigh will be able to eat a little more and sleep better in the coming weeks. She is going through this and still working, not giving herself a break. It irks you to hear from the others how she is _not_ taking breaks and drinking enough fluids and trying to get some food down throughout the shift. She looks fine, but you knew by the way she described that grisly office murder that it had to be hard for her to keep from getting sick. You only chide her gently, knowing that her emotions are in tailspin and that she doesn't need you losing your patience with her right now.

You are exhausted right along with Calleigh, though.

She huffs a breath and tosses for the last time.

"Calleigh," comes your stern, fed up call of her name. "Stop fidgeting and go to sleep, _carina_."

She only huffs a breath before she throws the covers off quickly and gets out of bed.

"I'll be back," she says quickly as she leaves the room, finally giving you a moment's peace.

You sigh, closing your eyes, trying to fall back into that blissful, restful sleep.

It isn't long before that sleep is broken.

You hear glass breaking in the kitchen, and your eyes open, eyebrows furrowed as you sit up.

"_Carina_, you okay?" You call out.

No answer.

"_Carina_?" You call again.

More silence, and you are concerned. You push the covers off of you and just as you are getting out of bed, you hear her crying out.

"Ahh! Eric!"

You rush out of the room and down the hall into the kitchen. You watch for the broken glass and you go around the other side of the island to where she is sitting on the floor, drenched with sweat, clutching her abdomen. You smooth over her hair and gently turn her head to look at you so that you can talk to her.

"Calleigh, Calleigh...talk to me, honey."

"I-I need to go to the hospital. S-something is wrong with the baby..."

The next few hours blend together and pass so slowly, yet so quickly, that you can't even process it, let alone try to help her process it.

You drove like a madman to get Calleigh to the hospital, your heart barely able to withstand her whimpers and shuddering cries in obvious pain. She was doubled over in the seat, sweaty, sick to her stomach. You pulled over once and she opened the door and threw up before you finally made it to the hospital. When you helped her out of the car, that was when you saw the blood in the seat. You scooped up her body into your arms and rushed her into the ER, yelling for immediate attention for her.

Just like that, the doctors and nurses had her on a gurney and were rolling her into the ER, telling you to step out of the way, to let them help her. You insisted, argued, demanded that you stay with her, but the doctor didn't budge. It took two nurses to nearly shove you out before a harsh pull of the curtain separated you from Calleigh.

Now here you are, finally with her, her small, sweaty hand clutching yours, her eyes closed tightly, not wanting to see a moment of what is happening next. You are smoothing over her hair again, whispering words of comfort, telling her that it'll be over soon. You kiss her wet cheek as she trembles, trying to stay as still as possible as the doctor gives her anesthesia. Her eyes become glassy, begin to languidly blink, and she loses her grip on your hand. She is scared, and you kiss her again as she drifts off and you are once again shooed out of the room.

You wait for another two hours, during which time you sit and pray and then call her parents, your parents and inform them of the situation.

You have to face that heartbreaking reality when you tell them.

Miscarriage.

Your baby, the life you made with her, is gone. All of the happiness and moments you've had thus far are now marred with shadows of the coming grief. You don't know what to think, what more to even say as you hang up the phone after speaking with Horatio, because what more can be said? You sit down, head buried in your hands, trying not to go down that road. That road of thinking you should have known what was happening. You shouldn't have been so concerned about getting your sleep, you should have woken up and taken her in and you would have known that she had been tossing and turning in pain all night.

But you couldn't have stopped what her body was doing.

You know that logically, but still, you wish that there was something that could have been done.

You are more scared about what this will do to Calleigh, though. You know that she will be devastated, and you try and prepare for that look of despair she will have on her face when you see her. You have to prepare for her tears, her sorrow. You are unsure of how you are going to deal with the loss as well as help her deal with it. You worry slightly that she may not want to deal with it at all; that she will, in true Calleigh fashion, be optimistic and dry up her tears in front of you and comfort and assure you that she is okay, that you and she both ought to be happy that she is still here. She will hide her grief from you, and you know that will hurt, it hurts you to think about it.

That's the price you pay for knowing her as well as you do.

The doctor, whose name you don't really care to remember at the moment, comes in and tells you that though she is still sleeping, that you can see Calleigh.

You go to her room, and you see her sleeping heavily, knocked out from the anesthesia. It is dim, quiet, save for the steady beep of the monitors. You pull up the chair, and you sit down, taking her hand in yours and you watch her sleep.

You reach over and place a hand gently onto her abdomen, fighting back the wave of hurt that threatens to overcome you.

"I'm sorry," comes your quiet apology.

You get up, and you kiss her cheek softly.

You love her still, you decide that this isn't going to be the end of everything because you have so much more between you.

You will miss that feeling, though. You will miss that pride of the prospect of becoming a father, you will miss seeing Calleigh's smile as she gently, yet inadvertently, placed her hand upon her abdomen, secretly giving in to the joy bubbling up within her, conquering the fears she'd had about becoming a mother.

The last few weeks have been more than interesting, but amazing. You smile a bit, thinking about how she was fretting over the tightness of her blouses, and how thirsty she was all the time. You think about how different the mornings have become again, waking up a bit earlier, making her tea and sharing a light breakfast with her at the table before she left for work.

The baby was becoming a new normal.

You sigh, sitting down again, and you tell yourself that you have to be strong for Calleigh because she is the one that went through all this pain, and you will never understand completely what she'd just gone through, never understand what she will feel after she wakes up. That frustrates you, knowing that you won't understand, that you can't relate to her and possibly help carry the burden of those feelings.

The word that keeps flashing in your mind is _emptiness_.

You are pretty sure that's what she will feel...you suppose that would be so because she'd just lost a baby, a tiny life that'd been nestled deep in her womb, making her feel sick, happy, scared, and full of the most brilliant joy. That's what you saw in her face the most: the utter _joy_. A joyful Calleigh you prize because she is _beautiful_ when she is joyful. You really see the heart and essence of _her_; you suddenly understand everything about her when she lets you see that hidden joy at the epicenter of her soul. You see her almost thirteen years ago, on that first day you met, that sweet little lilt of her voice, that wide, eager newbie smile, that adorable look of confusion and humor at that lousy pick up line you used, and then that laugh. That sunny, yet flattered, laugh she gave you that echoed in the parking garage, in your ears, that would continue to echo in your head for the next oh...twelve years, give or take a few. When you saw what the bubbly, cute, petite blonde could do, looking completely breathtaking and..._hot_ in those damn heels, you knew that she was more than just a pretty girl with a badge. She was a woman who took you under her wing and showed you how to shoot straighter, better, and with more accuracy.

You hated the other old school bastards in the department, the ones who were still stuck in the seventies, thinking that women cops served only to be seen, and not heard or valued. You hated the way some of them would look at her, raking their eyes over her, calling her "sweetheart" rather than CSI Duquesne, or "missy," something she absolutely hated.

Still, that did nothing to stamp out her joy, the joy she got from doing the job she loved, the job she trained her whole life for.

You know that you will be even more devastated if this is the thing that will finally steal it away from her, steal _her_ away from _you_.

With everything she's been through, you've been through together, she has always bounced back stronger and happier than ever, and you admit that she's rubbed off on you. She has changed the purpose of your life, has given you hope.

You have to use what she's given you so that you can give it back to her as she comes out of this.

You hear the slightest of whimpers, and you look up, and you see her eyes flutter open drowsily, and she looks around, her face looking slightly panicked as she recognizes her surroundings.

"Calleigh."

She looks at you, and you see her face crumble as tears come forth, spilling down her cheeks.

You kiss her lovingly, smoothing over her hair as she hugs you.

"Eric..."

"Shh, we're going to be okay."

You hope that is true.


	4. Four

_Two more chapters after this. Tried to stay in character with Calleigh and Eric's respective emotions, especially since it's all from Eric's POV...but the events in the last chapter kind of dictated the events in this chapter and forced Calleigh's emotions ever so slightly OOC, as it is from Eric's perspective, which made it interesting to write because it kind of makes the reader wonder if it's an authentic or filtered account of the events. Of course, it may not be that deep, but hopefully, it'll pay off and still be in character for the overall story. Thanks for all the reviews and the patience. Will be updating Pliant very soon. Enjoy.

* * *

_

In The Stars

**Four**

The rays of early morning sunlight filter in to the house, and you wake up to the curtains pulled open and the blinds opened, and you grin a bit, thinking that is a welcome change. You turn onto your back, rubbing a hand over your eyes, blinking away the last of the restful sleep you had and you take in a deep breath, a heavy smell of vanilla and cranberries filling your nostrils and you think that is quite a heavenly smell as you sit up. It is then that your eyes behold the source of that scent.

Calleigh.

She is sitting at her vanity, clad in only her bath towel, brushing out her wet hair slowly, intermittently, pausing the motion mid-stroke as she takes herself in. You are fascinated, because though you are in view in the mirror, you can clearly see that at the moment to her, you are not there. You can see by the bright glassiness of her eyes that she is elsewhere in her mind as she takes her time getting dressed this morning.

She looks good though. She looks rested, well, and secure, something which you are grateful for. You watch as Calleigh finishes the stroke then she brushes slowly again, taking herself in, thinking about something. You think that she might be a bit nervous about returning to work after being out for a month and a half. Calleigh being off from work for that amount of time was new for you and for her. It has been strange, it has been difficult, but you have been with her every step of the way since the miscarriage, and while you think you both still have things to work through together, you think that for the most part, you have helped to restore Calleigh's strength and confidence.

You had no idea how much losing the baby would affect her.

The doctor referred you to a counselor the day before Calleigh was released from the hospital, and you took it appreciatively, knowing that would be necessary soon after you got her home.

You'd been given all of the information about what to expect with Calleigh afterward, but...even armed with information, your heart hadn't been prepared for what came afterward because you had become so used to strong, resolved Calleigh, even after the most dangerous of situations. After she'd been abducted, she steeled herself for a few days, not wanting to face it, but she allowed herself a little cry out, called you and vented her anger, fear, and frustration. Afterward, she pulled herself together and was fine, both because it was true, and because you expected her to be fine.

You know now that it is a terrible thing to expect of any person, that they will always be alright. It's not real, and it's not always so. You've discovered this over the last month and some days as you and Calleigh have dealt with the loss of your baby.

You watch her now, interested by her deep interest in herself, as if she is figuring out everything about herself for the first time, or rather, rediscovering everything about herself again. This is good because you want her to feel good again, and she is definitely far from where she was a month ago.

You remember when you brought her home from the hospital.

She was moving slower, and you helped her go into the house and right into bed. For that first week, she was sore, achy; getting up and moving made her miserable, and yet, she couldn't bring herself to let you touch her. At first, you couldn't understand why she would recoil whenever you tried to take her hand, nor could you understand the visible shudder when you tried to kiss her cheek or smooth over her hair. Then, a few days later, when you saw her sitting in bed, hands over her abdomen, and you don't know what made the thought occur to you, but you realized that she was behaving like a victim...you realized that she felt _violated_. At the hospital, they had to do a D&C, and though she'd been asleep during the procedure, she woke up to the fact that it'd been done, felt the resulting soreness thereafter and it made sense to you. You thought about how traumatizing it must have been for her because of who she is.

Of the many things that you think Calleigh loves the best about herself, you believe that she loves her control and self-control above anything. You know after working with her and being with her that she is a bit of a control freak when she wants to be, always wanting to get the upper hand, and that has extended into every other aspect of her life. Knowing this, you understood then her feelings of being violated. She'd been under anesthesia, which made her prone, vulnerable, and stripped her of her control. She'd been propped up in stirrups, poked, prodded, and emptied while they evacuated any and all traces of your dying baby from within her womb. You know that she hates feeling out of control, that it terrifies her to be out of control, and losing the baby pushed her head on into that feeling. It tore your heart up to hear her say that losing the baby was her fault. You firmly assured her that it wasn't, that sometimes, the first trimester is treacherous and even deadly to the baby. You told her that once she was better, and with some time, that if she still wanted to, you and she could try for another baby.

When you said that though, she looked at you with pale jade eyes, hurt, incredulous. Her eyes glistened with tears as she shook her head.

"Another baby?"

You regretted saying that because she wasn't ready to be hopeful, she wasn't ready to discuss babies period.

That first week paled in comparison of what came soon after.

You knew what was coming, but when she actually fell into that pit of the after-effects, you almost couldn't take it.

The depression hit her hard, and she was scared by it and you did your best to help her through it. Her hormones were a discombobulated mess, and that brought her down even more. Her mind was torturing her with the imbalance, and that, coupled with the grief she almost refused to acknowledge that she felt, brought forth her angry tears. You took off from work then, because you were so worried about what she would think to do to herself if you left her alone. She wouldn't talk to you, she would barely utter a sound and your home was covered with the blackness of melancholy.

The days were spent checking up on her in bed; she would sleep most of the day and in the evening, she would awaken, stay up over half the night doing God only knew what. Getting her to eat was a trial, as she would eat a few bites, then pick and play around with her food. Her steps held no motivation whatsoever, and tasks that she would normally breeze through, like taking a shower, or putting on clothes, or tidying up took her way too much time to complete, way too much energy. The light in her eyes simply disappeared, and she would just sit listlessly, looking down at her hands in her lap or stare out at something or another. Conversations with her were short, stilted, and you actually preferred that she just sleep, so that you would be spared having to look into empty eyes.

There was something altogether fascinating, beautiful, profound, and heartbreaking to you about seeing Calleigh check out for a bit. The fact that she let it happen surprised you, but you knew that it was going to change her this time. She fell into the depths of her trauma and sorrow, and you knew that she would work her way back up. In the meantime, you watched her closely, supported her, stayed up with her those nights the grief became too much and you heard her crying next to you. You sat with her outside on the porch swing, held her for hours at a time as she just stared, you brought her inside in the middle of the night when you found her sitting outside on the swing, shoulders slumped slightly and picking at her fingernails.

Your friends and parents stopped by in intervals to check up on her. Your mother gave you too much food; enough food to feed a small army, rather than enough to feed just two people. You felt bad taking it because Calleigh wasn't eating much anyway, but still, you thanked her. Then Natalia came over, bringing flowers and cake, and you remember thinking, _When the hell is Calleigh supposed to get a lemon cake down, let alone any other food?_

People were calling the house at all times of the day, disturbing you and Calleigh, and though you were gracious, deep down, you were pissed.

Horatio stopped by, and you were glad. He was the only one beside your parents that had some common sense. He didn't overstay his welcome, didn't seek to see or bother Calleigh, he only spoke with you for about twenty minutes, wished the best upon you and then left. Simple.

You didn't even want to deal with her family because you quickly found out their bent toward theatrics. The last thing you or her needed at the time was the Duquesne family histrionics. Though you scolded her, you couldn't argue with her when she told you drowsily in the hospital, _"I love my daddy, but he's a pain in my ass."_ It is true, you've come to admit, it becomes more true the longer you spend in this relationship with her and the more you get to know Duke. You were actually glad that she realized just how much trouble her father causes sometimes, but you think it is so adorable when she affectionately calls him _Daddy_ in that sweet, yet manipulative, little girl voice.

She lost a bit of weight, her skin became pale, and you began to worry when she began to cry more and more. And she refused to talk about it. You had a good mind to take her to the hospital, but you knew that wasn't the answer. You convinced her, with an ease that blew your mind, to go to the counselor with you. The first session was difficult, tearful, and nerve wracking for her, but you helped her through that because you've spent the last two years in therapy, so you're used to it. The counselor prescribed some medication, and that began her healing.

It seemed like an eternity to you that Calleigh was stuck in her melancholy, but then one morning two weeks ago, she woke up with a serene look on her face, asking for a blueberry muffin and a coffee, and you had the coffee part taken care of, but had to go to the convenience store just outside her neighborhood for the muffin. You made it a quick trip, not wanting to keep her waiting, not wanting that brightness on her face to fade with dissatisfaction. She savored that little muffin, drank her cup of coffee slowly, then you held her for the remainder of the morning as she rested against you.

You are so glad that she is coming back to you.

You get out of bed, and you go over to her and gently put your hands on her shoulders. She starts a little, then she looks at you through the mirror, grinning a bit. You lean down and kiss the top of her head then she turns slightly and you kiss her lips softly.

"You're going to be late on your first day back if you don't hurry, _querida_."

"I know. I'm a little nervous and excited."

You chuckle as you begin to make up the bed. "I know you are. You changed your mind about what to wear about ten times last night."

She playfully glares at you. "It was not ten times...I only counted seven."

You just roll your eyes.

This is really good.

You are almost finished making her breakfast-to-go when Calleigh comes into the kitchen, black heels in hand, looking fresh and breathtaking.

You tell her as much and she smiles bashfully.

She tells you she's going to the beach for work; a Spring Break murder.

"Fun," you say sarcastically. "Just don't get swept off your feet by beach bums and drunk frat boys."

She gets on tiptoe to kiss you. "Never. I'm not that easy..."

"And?"

She kisses you again, then she looks into your eyes.

"And...you should be more worried about Cardoza going shirtless again."

You put your hand over your heart, feigning hurt. "Ouch...she would leave me for the new guy."

She laughs as she slips on her heels.

You give her the breakfast you made, and her travel mug of coffee, and you caress her cheeks.

"You're alright, _carina._"

She closes her eyes, nodding slightly. "_We're_ alright."

You kiss her again then she grabs her purse and her keys and she heads out.

You watch her back out and head down the street, and God, you love her.

You wish like hell that you'd have told her so.


	5. Five

_One more after this. Enjoy.

* * *

_

In the Stars

**Five**

This morning, you felt movement next to you in bed, and you turned onto your back, grinning as Calleigh snuggled into you, her arm slinking over your stomach and her head resting onto your chest, her skin warm and soft against yours as you kissed her forehead and tangled your fingers into her hair, playing with a few strands. Your other hand caressed along her arm then over her bare back, loving the silkiness of her skin. You were surrounded by her skin, her scent, just _her_, and if it wasn't the single most fulfilling moment in your life...

"Morning," she whispered.

"Morning."

She trailed her fingers over your stomach.

"Are you okay?"

You smirked. "More than okay...are you okay?"

She nodded, nuzzling into you, but you needed to look into her eyes, to see if she was really alright, not just saying it. Only because you knew her.

"_Carina_..."

She sat up and her eyes met yours, and you saw that they are dilated, euphoric as she grinned.

"Hmm?"

You caressed her cheek, and she leaned into your touch.

"_Are you okay_?" You asked again, and she smiled, and you fell in love with her all over again.

"Yes," she whispered. "I'm okay."

"How are you feeling?" You asked, because you needed to know.

She'd been doing better in dealing with the miscarriage, you both have been going to counseling, and she has been surprisingly open and honest with you about her feelings, about how she has been affected by the loss. You have been affected, and your relationship has been affected in ways you didn't anticipate. When she came out of her depression, she was so painfully embarrassed, which pained you because she told you that she shouldn't have allowed it to happen.

You assured Calleigh that it was alright, that she had the right to be depressed, that she was entitled to tears. She only nodded, and you knew that she didn't really believe you, and you knew that she would be hard on herself about it for a while coming. But at least she was talking. But the intimacy had to be rebuilt again. The time she could barely stand for you to touch her, and then the weeks of her numbness took a toll on that aspect, and you had to let her know all over again that your touch isn't to harm her, but to comfort her. You had to remind her that you're not going anywhere.

It's been two months, and for the most part, life is back to normal for you and for her. You've fallen back into your routine, you've accepted the loss, dealt with it, and now things are settling down again.

Last night, you decided to treat her to a nice dinner the way she likes; candles, outside on the patio, music, and a hearty meal. You had to cross over to her southern side, search her recipe books so that you could make the fried chicken just the way she makes it, you spiced up the mac and cheese, and for the first time in your life, you cooked greens. You referred to your own knowledge when you made the corn bread because your mother made it all the time when you were little.

The smile on her face was...incredible when you surprised Calleigh, and you could see that she was happy.

You spent dinner talking, you danced with her and she relished being in your arms again and really letting the emotions of your heart seep into hers. Afterward, she kissed you softly, and then a few more long, deep kisses later, you were both undressing and getting into bed. You asked if she was ready, if she was sure, and she nodded.

You made love to her slowly, gently, taking the time to kiss her everywhere, you listened when she told you what she wanted, and you fulfilled her requests with the purest love you've ever felt for her. You watched her face, catching the smiles, the gasps, the flush in her cheeks. You savored the way she sounded, the whimpers, the soft moans and cries. When she arched up and moaned out your name, you fell with her.

You both slept peacefully, and awoke later on and made love again, and you loved seeing her happy and enjoying herself.

You knew when you both rested together again that you were finally sure that it was time to tell her, but you didn't want to catch her off guard; she was already reeling from all of the emotions drawn out of her with making love, and you didn't want her to be overwhelmed.

You thought this morning about telling her when she got home from work. Perhaps taking her out on a walk, easing into it before you finally told her.

"Eric..."

She broke into your thoughts.

"I feel amazing," she whispered before she kissed you softly. "I feel great."

You were glad, and you wrapped your arms around her and you shared several kisses with her until your phones rang, and it was time to get up.

You loved that she wasn't in too big of a hurry to get to work, as she pulled you into the shower with her.

You drove her to work earlier than usual, because she had plans to have a girls' breakfast with Natalia. She looked completely beautiful, confident, and you kissed her softly.

"I'll see you tonight," she says with a smile.

"Okay," you said. "Have a good day, _carina_."

Neither of you knew what kind of hell would befall you..._again_.

You'd been in court all day, and when your phone vibrated, and you saw that it was Horatio, you immediately got up and took it.

"_There was a fire, Eric...and Ryan and Calleigh attempted rescue. Calleigh..."_

"_What happened?"_

"_You better get to the hospital, brother."_

Now here you are, at her bedside, taking in a familiar sight, your jaw clenching with both anger and sadness. You are angry at her because once again, she risked her life, putting a complete stranger above her own well being. You know that's the job, but your love for her makes it hard for you to accept that because this is _Calleigh_. The woman you love, the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with, the woman you want to be the mother of your children. You were on the cusp of having everything with her, and now, as you look at her on life support, you think that all of that will be cruelly taken away from you, from both of you.

You gently take her small hand in yours and you smooth over her hair, swallowing the lump in your throat and fighting back tears of sadness and frustration. You kiss her hand, hoping that she will feel it because, well, she heard and felt you the last time. You want to be optimistic, hope that she will come out of it, but you also know that this could be fatal for her. You can't ignore the fact that the reason why she's worse off now with the same injury is because her lungs had been severely damaged by smoke inhalation the first time. It could have been much, much worse, if she didn't take care of herself, if she was a smoker, and thank God she is averse to that kind of activity. But still, her otherwise healthy lungs suffered a blow, and her respiration has changed dramatically.

Her breathing is harder to control when she goes running now, and she has to make sure to pace herself. You notice that when she is in a tense situation, or stressed, that the anxiety intensifies and she is more prone to shortness of breath and panic attacks. And sometimes, which is the rub, it doesn't have to be stress, it can be when she's excited, or when you're making love and it becomes heated and passionate that she has a bit of a time catching her breath. You tell her to carry the inhaler with her everywhere, because it could happen at any time, but she never does, insists that she is getting better everyday, ignoring the fact that the damage done cannot be completely reversed.

You warm her cold hand, and you look at her, smirking a bit.

"You're probably going to be pissed, but, talk about your deja vu, right?"

You kiss her hand again.

"I hate that this is happening to us again," you say quietly. "First our baby and now this...I know you were trying to save a life, _querida_. That's what makes you a good cop. You care about everyone, your heart is always in the right place...that's what makes you _so beautiful_ to me. You don't have a selfish bone in your body. You help the victims, you help our friends, and our family. You're...you're amazing, Calleigh..."

You pause, getting up and kissing her forehead again.

"_Carina_, I _know_ that you can hear me," you say firmly. "I know that you're listening, so listen good, okay? Look, I know that I've been dancing around this for the better part of a year and a half, and I hate that I'm telling you this now when I should have told you months ago...I love you, Calleigh. I'm in love with you, all of you. I know you're going to make it because I want us, you want us...you're stubborn as hell about everything else...I know you're going to beat this. It's what you do."

You caress over her hand, then you place your hand upon her abdomen, thinking about your baby. There are times that you put your hand on her abdomen in remembrance of the tiny life you both lost. In bed at night, in the last weeks of her pregnancy, you joked with Calleigh about how in the literal sense, your child was sleeping in your bed with you. She only rolled her eyes, smiling a bit.

"They're going to have plenty of room," she said, referring to your king sized bed.

"_They're_? You keep saying that, we'll end up with twins," you laughed, because she wasn't comfortable with just saying 'the baby' all the time.

She turned to you then, putting her hand over yours on her belly.

"Would that be a bad thing?"

You only smiled. "Not at all. That would be just our luck, wouldn't it? A boy and a girl..."

She laughed. "Yeah, that would save me lots of time and energy. A two-fer."

You kissed her lovingly then.

As you caress over her abdomen, you think that this can't be it.

You both have come too far for it to be over, for it to end this way. The love you share is too great, it's too intense, too powerful, the connection you have to each other is too deep to be ripped apart. This is you and _Calleigh_. You and her. Together. Individually, you two are strong, but together, you both are a force to be reckoned with, and you can't be you without her. She's your partner, in every sense of the word, and that bond is solid. You want to make her your wife, so that she can proudly carry your last name and give her all of the honor and dignity that she deserves.

You _will_ ask her to be your wife.

No.

This isn't it.

She's not slipping away from you. Not today.

Long minutes of silence, save for the steady beep of the monitor, pass and you gently caress over her thigh.

You start when suddenly, the steady beep turns shrill and quick, and your adrenaline rushes again as your heart begins to race, unsure of what is happening to her.

"Cal...?"

Then the dreaded, sustained alarm sounds.

Flatline.

"Calleigh..."

You are quickly pushed aside, that after yelling at the nurses and the doctor...

You are taken out of the room and away from her. You look through the glass, helpless, desperate, scared.

Just this morning, she was happy, beautiful, talking to you and more alive than she's been lately. She's been simply gorgeous, had been last night when you made love, and in those moments with her, everything you both have always wanted began to unfold before you because it felt so right, so amazing.

But you waited too long to tell her how much you love her. How much you need her in your life, and that you just might as well die along with her in your soul because you know you won't ever love any other woman as much as you love Calleigh. You are certain that you will never be as happy, as complete as you are with her. At first, you thought God was just torturing you when he steered your heart to Calleigh's. You never thought that being with her would occur outside of your dreams because she is an incredible woman, and you didn't think that she saw you as anything but a best friend. But when she asked you what you wanted, you knew that she was ready to be open to taking your friendship deeper.

This isn't supposed to happen this way. You'll be damned if this is the end...losing your child is one thing, but losing Calleigh is another.

You see the doctor, shaking his head, and your heart pounds noisily within your chest.

It's you and her.

_You_ and _her. _It's perfect, undeniable..._forever_.

You don't want it any other way...because you without Calleigh doesn't make sense.


	6. Six

_Here's the last chap. Actually hated to end it, but...a sequel may be in the future this fic. Big maybe. Contains spoilers for 8X20 "Backfire." Kate Bush's "This Woman's Work" is the perfect EC iffy-boyfriend/girlfriend/best friend/lover in peril song on the show. Thanks for all the reviews on this story! Enjoy._

_

* * *

_

In the Stars

**Six**

You can't take your eyes off of Calleigh as she sleeps. She looks beautiful, peaceful, which is good, because you want her to get as much rest as possible. You gently push a lock of hair from her face, and she stirs but a bit before settling again. After everything she'd been through, you are so glad that she is here, with you, because on that day, she could have left you. But she fought, woke up, and your lives won't ever be the same.

She'd been exhausted when she returned to the hospital that day after you (reluctantly) took her on a jaunt to the morgue just hours after her ordeal. You wanted to argue her down, but you didn't have the heart because she was so unsettled, anxious, furiously writing and trying to speak to you at the same time about the case she'd just eerily solved in her unconscious state. When her voice did connect with her silent words, she practically begged you to help her get to the morgue.

She told you that she would only take a moment, and you waited for her in the lobby. But then ten minutes passed, and you were anxious to get her back to the hospital, so you went to check up on her. You were glad when she let you comfort her, let you hold her weak body when she bid farewell to the young kid whose reputation and, apparently, whose soul she vindicated. She cried into your shoulder, and you whispered words of comfort to her, smoothing over her hair. You took her back to the hospital then, and once she changed back into the gown and got back into bed, she was out like a light in just a few minutes.

The next day, she woke up, ate a little breakfast, and then went back to sleep, though you both knew that getting good rest is close to impossible in a hospital, what with nurses and doctors, and tests. Still, she was relaxed, letting her body heal and you stayed with her, talking with her, chuckling at the grimace on her face at the pathetically bland hospital food. Alexx came by after her shift, and you were glad to see her and so was Calleigh. Alexx had been more than a friend to Calleigh, she is more like a surrogate mother, and you were glad that Calleigh found solace in Alexx as well.

The third day, she had to go to radiology, then she had to see the respiratory specialist, get a plan for therapy. Her father stopped by, in tears when he saw his daughter and you had to tell him to get a grip, for her, before he went in because the slightest upset got her heart rate up and her sensitive lungs would be further aggravated. Duke always felt so guilty when it came to his relationship with Calleigh, you knew that, but you wanted him to pull it together and be there for Calleigh.

The fourth day...

_Everything changed_.

You wake up slowly, realizing that you'd gone back to sleep. You turn onto your side, intending to slink your arm around her waist, but you encounter empty space as your palm lands flat on the sheets. You can still smell her on the pillow, and you think, after what you'd both been through, that it is the sweetest thing. Lavender, jasmine, and vanilla all mixing together in perfect harmony to awaken you further and lure you into her world, because, there's no better place to be than in Calleigh's world.

You get out of bed, going over to the window and opening it up to let the cool breeze in. It has been unseasonably cool, and you are glad because the crisp air will help her recover even more. When you open the windows, you catch sight of her on the deck, curled up in one of the large wooden chairs, wrapped up in a blanket. She looks so small, her face is thinner, and you can see that she's lost weight again. Her hair is catching the breeze and she pushes a few strands from her face before she takes a sip of her tea. She has laid coffee aside, probably because it will upset her stomach because of her lack of appetite. She still looks healthy, even with the weight loss, but you'd like to see her filled out again, so you will get her to eat more and more as the days go by.

She looks incredible in the morning sunlight, and you can't help but take a moment and just look at her.

Calleigh.

God, you are so in love with this woman. Desperately, helplessly, irrevocably.

And now you know that she is in love with you too.

She told you so on that day.

_Calleigh loves_ _you_.

You will never let go of her.

You go outside, and Calleigh looks over to you when she hears your footsteps on the wood. You smile at her, and she holds her hand out to you, and you slip your hand into hers as you lean down and kiss her softly before you kneel in front of her.

"Hi," she says.

"Hi."

She pushes her hair behind her ears and you sit in the chair next to her.

"How are you feeling?"

She nods. "I feel great," comes her quiet reply. "It's so pretty today..."

"Yeah it is," you agree. "But you're prettier. Gorgeous, actually."

She blushes, and you take her hand again, and she looks at you.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

She gets up, the blanket still bundled around her and you know what she wants. You hold your hands out as she steps into your embrace and she sits gingerly onto your lap and you wrap your arms around her as she snuggles into you, tucking her head under your chin.

You join hands and you catch the glisten of the diamond on her ring finger in the sunlight.

You were reeling from Calleigh telling you that she loved you, you were happy, content, and perfectly complete as you shared lunch with her. Before her words could sink in well, she also said something that would change your relationship with her forever.

"Let's get married."

You looked at her, releasing a nervous, incredulous chuckle. "What?"

"Let's get married...today."

In that moment, you weren't entirely convinced that she was in her right mind...you remember you weren't exactly right in the head when you were recovering from the worst of your injury. Being oxygen deprived and shocked a few times does something to a person, it zaps and scrambles the brain cells around a bit along with jolting the heart.

She said that as simply as she said "I'm taking a shower," and you were floored, but her reason...her reason made you more sure about it than anything.

"I love you," she continued. "I've known you for almost _thirteen_ years. You are the longest relationship I've ever had with a man..."

You smiled at that, and she grinned.

"I have spent those thirteen years knowing you as a coworker, partner, best friend, and lover..."

Calleigh brought your hand up to her cheek and she rested into it with a tenderness that touched you so deeply. She turned and kissed your palm before she rested her cheek into it again, and you gently caressed with your thumb as you looked into her eyes, and you could see them glistening with tears.

"I could have died, Eric," she said in a watery voice. "And I would have died without...you've been so much to me over the years, but it's not enough to just know you as my best friend, or even my boyfriend..."

You caught the tear that escaped on your thumb and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

"I want to know you as my _husband_. I want to call you my husband, and I want you to call me your wife. If something were to happen to one or both of us, at least _we_ were solid and committed and if there is something beyond this life, we would always be connected, we would always be together."

You got up and kissed her forehead before you placed your other hand on her cheek, catching more tears.

"I-I don't want to die without being your wife," she sniffled, taking deep breaths. "I-I don't want to go another day, another week...or however long, without being your wife, and without you as my husband. I _want_ to marry you, I _need_ to marry you because I'm so in love with you."

How much more reason did you need than that?

You sigh as you smooth over her hair with your free hand, while your other is still entwined with hers. Her hand is much smaller than yours, but she manages to fit so nicely, so delicately. Calleigh gently caresses at the back of your neck, and she untangles her fingers from yours and slides her hand up your chest to your cheek as she leans up and kisses you softly before she caresses her hand down your arm and back to your hand, and you turn it over so that your palms can kiss as you kiss her again.

She pulls away and nuzzles into your neck.

"What are you thinking about?"

You smirk.

"I was thinking about how both of our parents are going to be pissed that they weren't at our wedding."

You feel her laugh softly against you. "I guess we owe them a do-over."

Poor Natalia. She walked in on the moment, and you announced your "engagement," short as it'd been, and told her that it was happening that day. You chuckle a bit...Natalia Boa Vista: Level II CSI and hastily-thrown-together hospital wedding planner. While Calleigh was being helped with getting ready with Natalia and Alexx, she insisted that you not see her until she got to the chapel. Upholding tradition in an otherwise untraditional situation.

It was glorious.

Calleigh has grown quite still, and you look down and see that she has fallen asleep. You kiss her forehead and then you carefully shift your arms so that you have a hold on her before you get up. You get up slowly, trying not to disturb her, but she stirs, wrapping her arms around your neck, opening her eyes slightly. You carry her back inside, and she smiles softly.

"Hmm, carrying me over the threshold finally," she whispers and you grin.

You lie her onto the bed gently, and you bring the covers over her, kissing her softly.

Your wife. Your beautiful, amazing wife.

You were thinking, as you waited for Calleigh, that you didn't even have a ring for her. You'd been browsing the same jewelry store for months, unable to decide which of the two rings to get, as they were both perfect for her. You realized then that she wasn't able to pick out a dress, she wasn't able to plan the wedding...there hadn't even been an engagement...well, it was a two hour engagement, at the very least.

You began to think that you weren't doing Calleigh any justice at all, though you wanted to marry her more than anything, you always figured she would have more in mind because you had more in mind.

All the thoughts of how meagre the wedding was in its most basic form disappeared as Calleigh walked down the aisle with Horatio and finally stood before you, bouquet of red tulips in hand. You gently placed both hands on her cheeks and she closed her eyes, grinning. She looked beautiful in her white skirt and white silk blouse, with her hair curled and framing her face, makeup just right.

The minister carried on with the ceremony, and you spoke your vows entirely from the heart, both of you unable to stop for a moment to actually write them down in the two hours preparing for the ceremony.

"Do you, Eric Delko, take Calleigh to be your lawfully wedded wife? In sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, in good times and bad, 'til death-"

"No," Calleigh interrupted.

"I'm sorry?"

You squeezed her hand gently and she looked at you.

"Don't say that last part," she instructed the minister, looking at you. "Because it's _you_ and _me_. We'll _never_ be apart, no matter what happens..."

You smiled. "Always."

She smiled back at you. "Always."

"Never to part?" The minister tried, and you liked that idea better.

"I do," you said.

"And do you, Calleigh Duquesne, take Eric to be your lawfully wedded husband? In sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, in good times and bad, never to part?"

"I do."

"We shall now prepare for the exchanging of ri-"

"Uh...we gotta cut that too," you informed the minister, who looked at you incredulously. "We don't have rings to exchange."

The minister scowled, actually scowled at you, both of you, muttering something under his breath. Horatio smiled, and Alexx, Natalia, Ryan and Frank were snickering quietly.

"Alright...then, by the power vested in me by God and the State of Florida, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."

You leaned down and kissed her softly several times before you parted and she was blushing and smiling.

"Next time around, get the rings."

With that, the minister departed, leaving you, Calleigh, and your closest friends to laugh and celebrate.

"That was a cranky minister," She mentions with a giggle as she rested against the pillows and you get into bed and lie down beside her.

"Yeah," you agree as you sit up over her a bit. "I think us not having rings was the last straw."

She smiles, turning onto her back to look up at you. "It's not really about the rings...I felt just as married to you without it as I do with it."

You shrug with a teasing smile. "Oh, in that case, I guess I can take your ring back...get a refund."

"No, no," she laughs. "It's beautiful, Eric."

You lean down and kiss her softly, and she wraps her arms around your neck and she deepens the kiss. Your hand slips under her tank top and skims along the skin of her abdomen around to her back. She tastes exquisite, smells heavenly, and feels incredibly soft, silky. She arches up, gently nibbling at your bottom lip and you gently pull her on top of you. She pulls away and kisses your cheeks before kissing along your jaw and you comb your fingers through her hair.

Calleigh kisses you again, this time more passionately, and you caress gently over her back.

After a few moments, you feel her becoming a bit breathless, and you break the kiss, and she is flushed and panting slightly. She sits up and you put a hand on her abdomen as she takes in deep breaths and calms her fluttering heart.

"You okay?" You ask.

She nods and moves to lie down next to you, releasing a chuckle laced with sadness.

"Some honeymoon, huh?"

You kiss her cheek. "It's okay, _carina_."

She looks at you, pouting a bit. "I-I haven't been much of a wife to you so far..."

"No, don't say that, babe..."

"Eric, you've been taking care of me, doing practically everything," she says, her tone truly distressed, tears brimming her eyes. "I feel...I feel selfish...it feels so one-sided."

You grin a bit. "Cal...you're still recovering. It's not one-sided at all. In fact, I'd hope that you'd be wondering what kind of husband I was if I _didn't_ take care of you."

Calleigh smiles. "I suppose you're right..."

You realize that you've come full circle with her; when you were injured the first time, she was there for you, no matter how tired she was, no matter how many times you insisted that you would be alright. Stubborn as she is, she stuck around, cooking, cleaning, playing nurse as well as comforter and friend and...she changed your life. Along with hope, she gave you strength, strength that you'd never had before, and now you realize that you are giving her that same strength, that same hope. Returning the favor with unadulterated love.

"But still, you don't have to not enjoy yourself on my account. You love it here in Puerto Rico...go do whatever you want."

You put your hand on her cheek. "I am doing what I want, I am enjoying myself...and I don't love Puerto Rico more than I love you."

"But-"

You interrupt her with a gentle kiss.

"Hmm, I think the lady doth protest too much..."

She offers a slight smile marred with a hint of despair, putting her hands on your chest. "We...we haven't made love yet, and I want to make love to my husband. I want to make love to you. That's the whole point of a honeymoon...we made love the night before the fire, but beside that, we hadn't made love in three months."

"We will, babe...it's only been a week since you left the hospital. We'll make love when you're a little stronger."

You see her chin quiver a bit and she looks away from you, her lips pursing and you know she's on the verge of tears.

"_Querida_, look at me," you say softly.

After a moment, she does, sniffling.

"I...I just want to make you happy," she says to you in a shaky voice. "I just feel that lately all I've been doing is taking..."

Calleigh begins to cry and it breaks your heart to see her truly hurt like this. She's been so hard on herself that it hurts you.

"I...I-I want to-to give...I want to give my love back to you, I want to give you comfort and support...you-you've given me s-so much..."

"Cal, take a deep breath," you instruct her, and she does.

She is getting herself worked up over something that you should have eased her fears about already.

"After the baby, and now after this just a couple months later...I want to give, Eric. Because I love you...I want to give you a home, and I want to give you my body, give you a baby, I want to give myself to you...I don't want to take from you anymore..."

You reach over to the bedside table pick up her inhaler and she uses it, letting the medication ease her constricting lungs, effectively calming her down.

"There," you say softly. "Just settle down."

She does, but she is still so hurt, still teary eyed.

"_Carina_, you shouldn't be afraid or ashamed of getting help when you need it. You don't realize it, but you give as much as you take. Actually, you give way more than you take. How many times did I try to push you away when I was hurt? Did you walk away? No. I'm not gonna walk away from you...it's you and me, remember?"

She nods.

This is love.

"You and me."

You smile. "You and me."

With that, you hold her close, gently caress over her back as she relaxes into you, hooking her arms under yours and burrowing into your shoulder.

"I am happy," you whisper. "It doesn't take much, you know..."

She chuckles.

"All I need is you here with me. That's all I need...besides, who says you can't just convalesce in Puerto Rico?"

She giggles.

You realize that nothing has really gone exactly how you and she wanted or envisioned. Life goes that way sometimes, you know. You lost a child, you nearly lost her again, then you married her in probably the most impulsive, but amazing moment in your life, and whisked her away down here to Puerto Rico, finally, leaving your excited friends and pissed off family members behind so that she can be in your world for a while, as you are in hers.

You have yet to take her to Lolita's because of her appetite loss, you have avoided any and all places with smoke for her health's sake, the music of the Estrella Bar floating down the beach, she's been a bit too weak to be able to do any extensive walking or sailing, and she hasn't donned her bikini yet, as she hasn't quite found her moxie again after being so ill. As if that really mattered in the grand scheme of things.

Sure, you wanted to see her in that yellow dress, you wanted to see her flushed and feel her dancing against you. Of course you wanted to see her in that cute, sexy bikini, enjoy good drinks with her and make love to her all night and feed her to her heart's content...everybody always _wants_ something. But the main idea, the whole point, was for you just to get down here with her, the activities not nearly as important.

She looks up at you and you kiss her softly.

Calleigh.

Calleigh Suzanne _Delko_.

Your _wife._

You have time to do all the other stuff together, to live life together, and even if you don't (because who knows), at least you have her with you now.

You and her.

That is all you will ever want...all you will ever _need_.

_Always_.

**End**


End file.
